


Borrowed Time

by ayumie



Series: The Grimm Road [5]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Summer Vacation, everybody needs a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:45:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6578125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayumie/pseuds/ayumie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renard keeps his word and goes on a much deserved vaction with Nick. Those two definitely need a break! Can probably be read alone, but will make a lot more sense, if you read the earlier parts of the series first...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Borrowed Time

Nick didn't know where they were going until they arrived at the airport. It had taken a lot of wrangling to arrange an entire week off together without rousing suspicion, but Renard had managed. The small cottage in the hills near Sausalito he had rented under an assumed name wasn't ostentatiously luxurious, which he knew Nick wouldn't like. It was comfortably furnished, though, and came with full concierge service and a cook to prepare meals at their discretion. They'd have an entire week there, an entire week of no Royal entanglements or Wesen-weirdness and if any murders occurred in the area, they wouldn't be their problem.

Day one was Sausalito and a relaxed amble on the Broadwalk, followed by lunch at a tiny seafood restaurant near the marina. Nick denied getting seasick during their cruise across the bay in the afternoon, but his face took on a decidedly greenish cast. At night it was warm enough to keep the windows open and they made love to the scent of honeysuckle and the sound of the first cicadas. It was slow and sweet, all open mouthed kisses and languid caresses. They came rubbing against each other like teenagers, lips fused, barely able to draw enough breath.  
Even after they had cleaned up, did they lie close, legs comfortably entangled. It was darker than it would have been in the city, the window only a vague, grey shape in the utter blackness.

“Did you ever think about me like this? You know, before everything.”

Nick's voice seemed disembodied in the dark, deliberately light, teasing.

“Would you have wanted me?”

“Fishing for compliments, are you? I'd noticed you were attractive. But you were one of my detectives and very much off limits. I didn't let myself think of you in any other context. Besides, you were with Juliette at the time.”

Whom he probably shouldn't have brought up. Nick just sighed and burrowed closer.

“Yeah. Juliette. I should have broken up with her when I became a Grimm, but I wouldn't listen. I couldn't bring myself to tell her - not even when I knew that I had to. I imagine you know the feeling.”

Renard pressed a kiss to Nick's temple, more of an answer than anything he could have said. Nick's hand found his, interlacing their fingers.

“You didn't answer my question. Did you want me?”

“Sometimes. Too often.”

 

Day two was a drive down Highway 1 and San Gregorio beach. They climbed over the rocky outcropping to reach a startling expanse of white sands and thundering surf. Taking pictures for Monroe and Rosalee balancing on some dramatic rocks proved more challenging than initially expected and in the evening Renard could attest that they had managed to get sand everywhere. On his way back from the shower, he was all but accosted by Nick, backed against the wall, wrist caught in a grip he wasn't sure he'd be able to break if he tried. Sharp teeth tugged at his earlobe, rough voice suggesting things to him – and only Nick would throw sex at him like a challenge, only Nick knew to.

A barbecue was waiting for them when they finally made it to dinner, the taste of salt and fresh air still in their mouths. The fridge had been stocked with beer and white wine and they sat on the porch, enjoying the view over the bay. Nick was leaning back in his wicker chair, body more relaxed than Renard had seen in a long time.

“Could it be like this always, do you think? Just you and me, at peace?”

It was a tempting idea – to find someone else to protect the key, renounce all claims to power, all responsibility and just run away together. Obviously it wouldn't work.

“We could move to Thailand, open a diving school.”

“You know how to dive?”

Renard shrugged.

“I've always wanted to learn. We'll have a house near the sea.”

“I'll go running at the beach every morning. At least we're both good with hot food. I hear real Thai food is wicked.”

“We'll be happy.”

“Yes, we will be.”

 

Day three was San Francisco. They did pretty much what was expected – Alcatraz and Fisherman's Wharf, Chinatown and riding a cable car. It was good to be able to lose themselves in the crowds, to not have to constantly monitor their interactions. They bought crabs at a small stall near the harbor and ate them quickly, keeping a wary eye on the seagulls circling above.   
For the evening, Renard had ordered a special dinner, filet mignon with great asparagus and mashed potatoes, accompanied by a nice, red wine. Nick kept glancing at him from beneath lowered lashes, chatting about this and that, but clearly up to something. Finally he put down his fork.

“Sean, I've been trying not to ask, but … what Adalind said that night is true, isn't it? You did sleep with her – and with her mother.”

Renard's first instinct was denial. He had learned better, though. Nick deserved better.

“When I first came to Portland, I was on my own. I needed support to establish myself. Catherine knew my mother and we .. liked each other, I suppose. We were never lovers in any real sense of the word, but we did have sex on and off for years. She'd help me deal with certain … situations and now and again we'd spend time together. Adalind was … a mistake. I think her mother meant for the two of us to get married, as strange as that may sound. I knew that wasn't going to happen, but I suppose I felt flattered. She's young, pretty and it wasn't like I was in a relationship. It didn't seem so very wrong to take her up on what she was clearly offering. I should have thought better of it.”

“Was she in love with you?”

“She probably thought she was. I … could have been kinder.”

Nick nodded slowly.

“All right. All right, I can live with that. We're adults, it's only fair to accept that we come with baggage. Although I'm afraid my love life hasn't been near as glamorous. 

At Renard's raised eyebrows, Nick laughed.

“Just the usual. Girlfriends in high school, a few wild years in college and Juliette. Nothing scandalous.”

“Well, you're certainly making up for that now.”

“You think?”

Later that evening, Renard had his lover on his hands and knees, fucked him with tongue and fingers and cock until Nick was all but frantic, sweat-slick and panting, thighs trembling with the effort to lift his ass higher. 

 

Day four was rain. It started as a grey drizzle and soon turned into a steady curtain of water. They stayed in bed until noon, lazily leafing through some of the paperbacks on the shelves, enjoying each other’s warmth and closeness. It was tempting to just stay in bed all day, but Nick had other ideas. A little later, Renard found himself being shaved. Nick had dragged one of the chairs into the bathroom, was kneeling between Renard's legs, gently spreading foam over his cheeks and chin. It wasn't anything he had ever imagined: Nick on his knees, giving every appearance of subservience, but at the same time a Grimm with a blade to his throat. He came embarrassingly quickly during the blowjob that followed and it was painfully obvious that Nick knew him, knew how to get to him. 

In the afternoon, they lit a fire in the big chimney and watched TV. Nick had settled comfortably against Renard, hand resting on his thigh, head leaning against his shoulder. When the credits rolled, he stirred.

“To pick up where we left off yesterday, there's something I need to tell you. A good thing, really. My mother is still alive.”

They really, really needed to stop springing these kind of surprises at each other. Renard's mind was racing. The woman was supposed to be dead and, Nick's mother or not, she didn't sound like anyone he'd care to meet. He certainly didn't want her in his city. Clearly aware of his shock, Nick plowed on. 

“I think I'm going to have to tell her about this – us. She tends to show up unannounced and … that could end badly.”

Could it ever. Renard was still lost for words.

“I – how?”

“A friend of hers was in the car when it crashed. She let everyone think she was dead to hunt the killers. I only learned about it when she came back from Europe about a year ago. Anyway, it might not go that badly. Your mother seemed to approve.”

A half-Zauberbiest, half-Royal corrupting her only son. Right.

“My mother approves of a lot of things I wouldn't care to mention to yours. You might want to break the news gently – ideally when she's somewhere far away and too busy to come to Portland to behead me.”

Nick tensed, but didn't move away.

“Well, what would you have me do? Say nothing until she walks in on us some day, fully armed and rightfully pissed?”

What he really wanted was for the woman to be as dead as she was supposed to be, but he couldn't very well say that. Renard drew a deep breath.

“You're right. She needs to be told. Just let me know whether there's anything I can do to make things easier.”

He hesitated for a moment.

“What are you going to tell her?”

“That you make me happy.”

 

Day five was Mount Tamalpais. They set out early in the morning through chilly fog, but around noon the weather cleared and they reached higher ground. The hike wasn't particularly taxing, but the trail offered spectacular views. They ate their packed lunch at East Peak, looking out over the bay and stretching tired legs. Nick had taken off his shoes and socks, wriggling his toes.

“We should do this more often – just get away from everything, have a life.”

It seemed so easy, just forget about work and whatever other catastrophe might be looming and have a few hours to themselves every week. Renard smiled.

“I'd like that. Did you notice I checked my phone only once a day since we got here? I'm getting used to this whole relaxation thing.”

Nick grinned back, eyes bright with mischief.

“I did notice. In fact, I was thinking of suggesting you for the 'Excellent Achievements in Vacationing with your Partner' award.”

“Really? Is there a price?”

“Of course. You get a free T-shirt and a commemorative plaque. You definitely won't want to miss the award ceremony, though. The very private award ceremony, I should say.”

“Well, as long as there is a plaque.”

Both men sat quietly for a moment, faces turned into the sun. Nick's hand inched closer to Renard's, fingers brushing his wrist.

“I meant it, though. It can't be just danger and violence all the time. We need … more.”

“Yes,” Renard answered without hesitation, “yes, I want that, too.”

On their way back, they stopped at Muir Wood to look at the giant sequoia trees and had dinner in a small town near the edge of the national park. That night they were too exhausted for any further physical activities. Clad in pajama pants, they cuddled together, simply holding each other until they fell asleep.

Day six was Napa Valley. They visited several wineries and strolled around the towns nestled between the vineyards. Nick had generously offered to drive, so Renard could sample a few wines. He ordered quite a few bottles to be shipped back to his Portland address. It'd be nice to drink it later and remember this day.   
When they got back to the cottage, it was time to pack. Not a particularly pleasant task, but they got it over with quickly. Before dinner, they had a shower together and made love under the hot spray. Both man were panting, hands scrambling on slick tiles as they moved together with practiced ease. They knew each other’s body, each other’s strength, and adapted accordingly until all the patterns of pleasure came together to form a whole.

Later that night they sat together on the porch, legs comfortably entangled, sharing a bottle of wine they had bought that day. Nick was sipping at his glass, clearly wishing he could have a beer instead. Suppressing a smile, Renard tilted his head back, savoring the rich flavor and trying not to jump every time some animal screamed in the night. He felt more than heard Nick's stifled laugh.

“I’d have thought you'd be more comfortable with the great outdoors, you being half-Wesen and all.”

A mock-suffering sigh, followed by another sip.

“I'm a Zauberbiest, Nick. We don't exactly thrive in the wild.”

“And you're royal.”

A deep swallow this time and, belatedly, it occurred to Renard that just then, perhaps he shouldn't be drinking.

“Yes. I am.”

“If you hadn't been cast out, do you think you'd have turned out like them? Like Eric, like Victor?”

Not a comfortable question. Nick was still touching him, though, rubbing slow, calming circles into the inside of his thigh.

“I can't be sure. I'd like to say no, but... As you might imagine, a royal house isn't exactly what you'd call a … nurturing environment. I didn't know Victor all that well, but Eric was – he didn't just survive, he thrived. We were encouraged to be competitive, you understand. Not to be kind to each other, or even to play fair, but to be the best, no matter the cost. I remember the day we were shipped off to boarding school. I had to change rooms twice, because whenever I was assigned a bed, Eric decided it was the one he had been wanting all along.”

Renard paused briefly and leaned in to breathe Nick's scent. It was difficult to judge what to say, how to say it.

“It's a world apart, Nick, in Europe even more so than here. After a while, it's easy to forget that all the normal people you see on TV, or in the streets around you are even real. Their lives seem very remote, very … inconsequential.”

“Your mother pulled you out of there.”

“We had to run. I don't think Eric's mother very much cared about her husband's mistress, but she couldn't tolerate a bastard rivaling her son.”

“You make it sound so reasonable. You were a kid, Sean.”

“I was growing up. And anyway, it happened almost 30 years ago. I'm alive – and I'm glad I ended up in Portland.”

It was too dark to really tell, but Renard thought that Nick was smiling. Tomorrow they'd be flying back home. Together.

The End


End file.
